


A Pitiful Child

by PandoraTheExplorer



Series: Month of Drabbles Challenge 2018 [13]
Category: Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode
Genre: Character Study, Gen, also monaca and nagisa are paralyzed from the wait down now bc of events in udg, its for dramatic irony, what monaca was doing during the time between udg and dr3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:57:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraTheExplorer/pseuds/PandoraTheExplorer
Summary: Monaca Towa’s despairing journey of self discovery





	A Pitiful Child

**Author's Note:**

> Day 17 of my 2018 Month of Drabbles Challenge

Your name was Monaca Towa, and you wanted to taste true despair.

~

You’d killed your hero, your priest, and your sage. Your fighter had cursed your existence and left you to die in a collapsing building. Your plan to bring back Big Sis Junko had failed. There was no one left who would save you or kill you. It was just you now. Just Monaca. Was this what Big Sis Junko meant by “true despair?”

No. There had to be something better than this. This couldn’t be true despair. If it were, it wouldn’t be so…boring. The deaths of your friends were more despairing than the prospect of facing death yourself. You had a feeling that your plan would fail-there were too many variables. You were sure Kotoko and Big Brother and Big Sis Komaru would abandon you. This outcome was expected. Failure didn’t bring about the same feeling of ecstasy Big Sis Junko described.

You wondered if you would feel true despair when you die. That had to be the case. If you didn’t feel true despair even then, then what would be the point of dying for your failed plan? You briefly wondered if dying without ever feeling true despair would be despairing on its own, but decided that it wasn’t. It was just disappointing.  
A slab of concrete fell over you, bumping you to the ground. As you lost consciousness, you wondered if this was true despair. How boring it is to despair.

~

You name was Monaca Towa, and it turned out you weren’t dead after all.

~

When you first woke up, you hoped that the greasy hair in your face would be pink. It was white, which was disappointing-not despairing, just disappointing. Servant tells you to be Big Sis Junko’s successor. You agreed to try, if only to get him to stay. Everyone else was already gone. You didn’t want him to leave you too, even though you thought he probably would.

And Servant does leave you. He said he was leaving in search of a “sweet hope that could overcome even the bitterest despair.” You didn’t fee despair at that, either, even though you hoped you would. How disappointing.

~

You built another controller for the Monokuma Kids-it was easier to build than the first time, even if you didn’t have the blueprint for it anymore. You had your Kids build an assembly line to make more Monokumas. One day, you were going to find Big Sis Komaru and everyone else who left you to die in Towa Tower that day and make them pay as the new Ultimate Despair.

The Monokuma Kids do your bidding without any complaint. They really were pathetic, being brainwashed and used by you like this. Sometimes, you wondered if they were pathetic enough to replace your pitiful children, and you would always brush those thoughts aside. There would never be anyone quite like your pitiful children.  
Months passed, then a year. Your hair was getting long so you tied them in the twin pigtails that Big Sis Junko used to wear. You looked in the mirror one day and sighed. Despair came so easily to Big Sis Junko. Why couldn’t it come as easily to you, the impostor?

~

You had long accepted your Warriors’ deaths with disappointed resignation when you found them trying to break into your new hideout. You kept yourself seated in the highest room of your new tower and sent some Monokumas to chase them away. It wasn’t like you could run anywhere, anyway. Your legs have stopped working ever since the day you tasted the disappointment that was true despair.

You watched the video feed sent from the cameras you put at the entrance. Your pitiful children fought through the swarms of robot bears almost as well as the demons did. Almost two years of staying alive in the ruined Towa City without your knowledge had prepared them well. You prepared for the boring disappointment that would surely come to you when you realized that your Warriors weren’t dying, but that disappointment never came.

Masaru, your hero, who wanted to be loved, should have died under the harsh fists of your Monokuma Kids in an abandoned arena with no one left to want him. Instead, he was swinging a crowbar into the glass eyes of your robots with vigor not unlike what he had the day you led him to kill your first adult. He no longer flinched at raised paws, and roared back at bears that dared roar at him.

Jataro, your priest, who wanted to be hated, should have lost his worthless life thinking that the Monokuma Kids who hated him and who he loved so died because of him. He carried Nagisa through the crowds of Monokumas in a light sprint, trusting the other boy to bat away any enemies who stood in their way. He no longer was second-guessing everyone around him. Instead, he ducked just as Kotoko shot a set of false teeth at his head, letting the projectile hit the Monokuma behind him.

Kotoko, your fighter, who wanted you for herself, should have perished alone in the ruins of Towa city, your betrayal fresh on her mind. The last time you saw her, she was running for her life, snivelling at the rejection of the last person who wanted her. Now, she confidently rammed open the door of the tower with her denture gun and charged into the hall, flanked by the boys she replaced your love with.

Nagisa, your sage, who wanted to live up to his impossible expectations, had died under a pile of scrap metal, foiled by his own pride. Except somehow he wasn’t dead-he was waving around an ice pick into the faces of your Monokumas while Jataro carried him to victory. You realized with a start that Nagisa’s legs, much like yours, didn’t work anymore. He didn’t try to pry himself loose from Jataro’s arms and try to walk like you knew he would have had he been in this situation two years ago. Nagisa simply looked around and pointed the Warriors in the direction of the stairs. The others didn’t expect him to do anything more or less, and he was content with that.

And then there was you, Monaca, the mage, who wanted bitter despair but was instead met with cold disappointment. You remembered a time that seemed a lifetime ago, back when your Warriors still belonged to you. You would do everything in your power to thwart their plans and smile sweetly when you watched their conflict in amusement. Now you just waited in your tiny room on the top of the tower, unable and unwilling to move away. 

When your pitiful children broke into your room, Masaru and Kotoko immediately jumped on the two Monokumas by your side and smashed their red eyes until sparks flew out.  
Jataro gently set Nagisa on the floor and pointed the sage’s ice pick at your face.

“It’s over, Monaca,” Nagisa said in that cool voice that you used to adore. It had grown at least two pitches deeper since you’ve last heard it.

You simply stared at him. It was over? Didn’t everything already end two years ago, when you gave up your pitiful children for the tantalizing grip of despair?

Jatro huffed. “D-don’t try to pull anything,” he grunted. He wasn’t wearing his ugly mask anymore. Even after two years, you still couldn’t believe that such an angelic face hid behind all that leather. “Monokumas are still roaming around Towa City. Are you controlling them?”

“I-Monaca has no idea what you’re talking about.”

Kotoko lifted up your skirt and pulled out your controller. “I knew it,” she said, not in the light, performative voice she used back when you were building your paradise together but in that flat, husky voice she never used to let others hear.

“Please don’t break it, Kotoko,” you begged, trying to look as pitiful as possible, “You know what’ll happen if you do, don’t you? Everyone’s heads will explode and I won’t have any more friends left.”

Masaru took the controller and glared at you. “How do you disable the helmets?” he boomed. He had grown taller. He was less like the scared boy you used to know and more like the hero he thought he was.

You stared at the Warriors blocking your exit, at the pitiful children that you loved so much. You took in the way that the hero, priest and fighter, leaned towards the sage sitting in front of you, as if they were trying to protect him. You saw how Masaru and Kotoko, the two Warriors who used to flinch at the slightest touch, were standing side by side, their shoulders touching as if it were a familiar occurrence. You saw the adoration in the Warrior’s eyes every time their gazes drifted to Jataro, replacing the disgust that had been there a few years ago.

The Warriors of Hope loved each other, you realized. They loved each other now more than they ever loved you. The realization brought a swell of pain to your chest that you hadn’t felt since Kotoko left you underneath all that rubble to die two years ago. For the first time in years, you felt the familiar sensation of despair. 

Big sis Junko had told you once that the best despair was to lose something you loved. Killing your father didn’t cause you despair, nor did seeing Servant leave. Thinking you were going to lose your life wasn’t all that despairing either. You’ve always wondered why, and now you realized that it was because you didn’t love any of those things.

You did love the Warriors of Hope. You did love Big Sis Junko. When Big Sis left and you drove your Warriors away one by one, something inside you broke. Perhaps losing your Warriors was true despair, or at least the truest despair that someone like you could feel. Knowing that, it made sense why everything seemed so disappointing afterwards. Anything you felt would pale in comparison to the bitter sweetness of true despair.

You let the swell of emotion in your heart burst as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your Warriors looked at each other uncertainly. If they had any amount of brains they would have figured out by now that you could cry on command. Still you had to try. If these Warriors were your only source of despair you couldn’t give them up that easily.

“Please don’t hurt me!” you whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you the code to disable the helmets. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Before any of the others could give you a reply you hurriedly added, “Monaca misses you.”

After a long silence, Masaru-ever trusting Masaru-stepped forward and leaned towards you. You were happy to see the hesitation in his eyes. He still had feelings for you, which meant that the others did, too. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but it was still something you could use.

“Just give Monaca a chance,” you said softly, “Monaca can’t do anything to hurt you now anyways. Please be gentle-“

“…Gentle?” Kotoko was staring at you, her eyes wide with panic. Damn. How could you forget? Shouldn’t you have remembered that this was the word that set your fighter off, since you used this word to make her do your bidding as children?

Masaru’s soft gaze hardened. You’ve just ruined any chance you might have had to gain back your Warriors, and any chance you might have had at sustaining your despair. The thought of that could be despairing, you thought, but mostly it just brought you that familiar disappointment.

You threw yourself at Masaru and knocked him to the ground. The controller clattered to the floor and you made a mad scramble for it. You grabbed the controller and punched some buttons. Downstairs, Monokumas roared. If you could keep your pitiful children in this tiny room for a few more seconds, your robots can come and paint the walls with their blood. Then, while you still kept that euphoric feeling of despair, they could kill you too, so you would never be disappointed again.

You grabbed Nagisa’s arm and he slapped your hand away. Jataro picked him up again and the two turned to face the Monokumas at your door without another word to you. Masaru was already smashing through your robots, shielding Kotoko, who was curled up on the ground crying. He glanced back-not at you, at Jataro-and nodded. Before you realized what was happening, Masaru had grabbed Kotoko by the arm and he and the priest powered out of the door, leaving behind a trail of broken robots.

You ordered the Monokumas to stop chasing your Warriors after they got out of the tower. You could probably kill them if you chased them for long enough, but what was the use? Wasn’t the whole point of killing your Warriors to feel the despair of killing someone you didn’t want to kill? You realized that you wanted to kill your Warriors now; despite how much you loved them. You didn’t think you would feel the same despair as last time. Instead, you thought you’d probably receive the same painfully familiar disappointment when that despair wasn’t there.

~

Your name was Monaca Towa, and you wanted to taste true despair.

~

True despair wasn’t possible anymore, you decided. At least, it wasn’t possible for someone as easily disappointed as you. Now, the only thing you could do was to find some way to escape the painful boredom of this world.

You looked down at the blueprints you’ve been absentmindedly sketching. It was a spaceship. A spaceship. That would be enough to take you away from it all.

~

Your name was Monaca Towa, and you were so bored of despair.

**Author's Note:**

> The anime didn't really explain Monaca's reasoning for blasting into space so I'm trying to.


End file.
